It's Always Summer
by Scout261
Summary: One-shot response to a really interesting prompt. Featuring Stannis and his most secret thoughts and confessions.


_NOTE - This is my first response to a prompt, so here goes. In this, Stannis is with his fleet on the Blackwater, rather than leading the land attack. It's only a one-shot, but the prompt hit me right in the feels, so a thank you to PrawnNetwork for that. Here it is, enjoy.  
_

King Stannis Baratheon, First of His Name, slammed his hand down on the rail of his ship. They should have been at King's Landing days ago, but the storms had slowed them, and taken a dozen of his ships. True, a dozen ships was but a drop in the ocean of his fleet of one hundred and thirty, but the losses were unnecessary, and that irked him.

The more he thought on the delay, the more he ground his teeth. It had given the Imp and his sister time to prepare. His vanguard would have been at the city, waiting, for several days now. He hoped Guyard Morrigen wasn't stupid enough to try anything without reinforcements. Probably not, but the man had declared for Renly, when he, Stannis, was the rightful king. He ground his teeth again. What if Morrigen had taken his men away from the city after the Tyrells and deserted his King? Worse, what if he had joined the city's garrison? No, that would not be so, and if it was, it wouldn't matter. The Lady Melisandre had seen his victory in flames after Renly was dead, and so he had done it. He had not seen the thing she had birthed, but he knew what it was. Ser Davos had tried to tell him, to make him stop it, but it was too late. Renly was dead. He had killed his little brother. His little brother who had followed him around Storm's End during the siege, asking when Robert was coming home, begging for food. Stannis swept these thoughts aside. _He should have been my most loyal supporter, but he turned on me. Damn the Tyrells. First they starve us for a year and feast within sight of our walls, and then they stole my brother from me. I had to do it. I had no choice._

* * *

Night had fallen when his fleet moved into position. He stood at the prow of his _Fury_ , his wife's brother Ser Imry Florent at his side. He could just see Ser Davos' _Black Betha_ on the far right of the line. He looked down at the water, and unbidden, a song came to his head. He had heard his daughter sing it once, on one of his rare returns to Dragonstone.

 _It's always summer, under the sea_

 _I know, I know, oh, oh, oh_

As he gazed into the waters of the Blackwater, he saw nothing but the dark, glassy surface. How could something so cold and dark house eternal summer? No, summer was ending, winter was coming, as the Starks loved to remind people. Eleven years this summer had been, and the winter that followed would be longer still. That was why every delay was costly. Once he sat the Iron Throne he would prepare, once his foes were gone. The Iron Throne was his, by right. All who denied that were his foes.

"Your Grace?" Ser Imry leaned in and whispered in his ear, "We're coming close to the city."

"Thank you Ser. Sound the drums."

"DRUMS!" Imry roared, and _Fury_ led the other ships in. All along the fleet, men rushed out on deck, weapons at the ready. Seemingly in response to the drums, the bells of the city began to ring.

"The bells ring for the death of a King," Stannis mused.

"And for victory." Imry prompted him, "The city welcomes it's true King."

"Save your flattery Ser, the bells ring a challenge. The Imp and Cersei will not yield. We shall destroy their fleet, and then we shall destroy them."

* * *

They sailed past the river mouth, and Joffrey's fleet appeared.

"Ready weapons!" Imry bellowed. "Grappling hooks to the rail!"

Stannis watched as his men readied themselves. His thoughts again turned to his daughter. His daughter, the scarred little girl he didn't know. The child who was a stranger to him, and her mother, with whom he could never speak. He was a King, a husband and a father. Before the night was done, he would have something to show for one of those things.

"Ramming speed!" In response to the command, the drums increased their rhythm and _Fury_ lurched forwards. Drawing his sword, Stannis took his place in the front rank.

His flagship collided with the enemy ship, it's bronze ram locking the ships together. He could see the Lannister troops panicking on board.

"Follow me!" He shouted to his men and he threw himself aboard the enemy ship.

He cut down the first man to stand against him, Lightbringer blazing. The Lannisters fell back in fear as he and his men came for them. They threw themselves over the rail or fell on their knees. Not a one was spared. _Cowards._ Then he heard the shout from _Fury._

"Your Grace!" Ser Imry was crying, "They've raised a chain, we can't leave the river! Saan can't land his men!"

"Signal him to land them on the northern shore and cross into the city!"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

Stannis turned back to the battle on the deck of the Lannister ship. The murmur began quietly, but grew to a rumble and soon it consumed the ship. The first explosion was another ship, on the far right. He saw the flames engulf _Black Betha,_ heard the screams of his men as they burned. _Davos._

"Wildfire!" He began to call to his men, "Back to _Fury_!" Then he shouted to Imry, "Get us away from this ship!"

But it was too late. In that moment, he saw the flames before he heard them. The vivid green of the wildfire burned his eyes. The blast of the explosion hit him like a charging bull, knocking the air from his lungs, and flung him over the rail.

* * *

When he surfaced, he gasped for breath. The sight that met his eyes was horrific. All across the bay his fleet burned. _Fury_ was gone, blown to smithereens by the blast. Everywhere men struggled to grab a floating spar or portion of decking to stay alive. He could feel his armour weighing him down, but Stannis Baratheon would not go down without a fight. Steeling himself, he made for the nearest piece of debris. A man was already atop it, wearing the flaming heart of his King's sigil, and as he neared Stannis called out to him,

"Help me! Help your King!" He grasped the side of the wreckage.

"Fuck you!" The man replied, "You led us into this shitstorm, why would I save you?" Raising a shattered oar, the soldier smacked his King over the head.

* * *

Stannis knew he was sinking. He knew he would drown. His armour was too heavy, it would drag him to the bottom of the river, and he would be forgotten. _How ironic, I shall drown. As my mother and father drowned. I lost faith that day, and as soon as I have found faith again, I drown too._ The thought of his parents brought thoughts of Shireen to his head. _I should have seen her more. Should have been there. She does not even know me, and I do not know her._

As the flaming surface of Blackwater Bay became more and more distant, the song began again.

 _It's always summer, under the sea,_

 _I know, I know, oh, oh, oh,_

 _The birds have scales, and the fish take wing,_

 _I know, I know, oh, oh, oh._

King Stannis Baratheon, First of His Name, felt the water sting his eyes, felt it fill his mouth and then his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He struggled and fought, but it was too late, he knew it was. The bells of the city rang in his mind. _The bells ring for the death of a king._ He fought all the same though. Stannis Baratheon did not give up.

 _The rain is dry, and the snow falls up,_

 _I know, I know, oh, oh, oh,_

 _The stones crack open, the water burns,_

 _I know, I know, oh, oh, oh._

He thought of the daughter he didn't know, the three sons who had never drawn breath, the wife whom he had never tried to like. The father he had lost, the mother he had lost, the elder brother he had fought for, the younger brother he had killed. The family he had never allowed himself to love. The elder brother who had held his hand all day on his first visit to court, who had refused to let him get lost, who had taken care of him and kept him close. The younger brother whom he had force-fed rats during the siege to keep him alive, who had followed him around asking for Robert, for their parents, the little brother he had tried to look after, and failed. That little brother, the one he had loved, but been unable to show it, who had hated him, and who had opposed him. The little brother he had murdered.

 _The shadows come to dance, my lord,_

 _The shadows come to play,_

 _The shadows come to dance, my lord,_

And the daughter he had failed.

 _The shadows come to stay._


End file.
